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Disclosures: The Service Wife – Part 2

A military man's wife details her exploits in philandering
Over the course of a single week, a perfect shit storm blew into my life. Monday evening on the way home from work, my car threw a rod. As the oil leaked onto the asphalt on the side of the roadway, I knew it was toast. A mechanic told me two hours later, his repair estimate would run $2,000 more that the car was worth. At least Dumbass had his own car, I could use; an eight-cylinder testosterone tribute to his machismo that got 10 miles to the gallon. As my shit luck would have it, the mail contained a FINAL notice that said Dumbass was three months behind in his payments, and the car would be repro’d in fifteen days, unless we caught up in full. The $200 we had in saving wouldn’t cut it.

In the same mail contained, an announcement daycare was going up another ten percent.

On Tuesday, I was called into a sudden meeting at work. Profits were down, expenses up – bottom line; they were closing our office effective immediately. One-week severance, take it or leave it.

The next day, our son bit into a hotdog at the school cafeteria and screamed in agony. He'd bitten into a bit of bone in the frank and had cracked his tooth. If we’d had TriCare, it would have helped with the coming bills, but Dumbass had preferred to get his muscle car to impress the rest of the barracks, than providing decent dental care for his family. The dentist explained he could pull the tooth, a permanent, for a lot less that putting in a crown. There are a lot of things I’ll do to cut corners and I’ll take the lumps on my own financial problems, but not where my kids are concerned.

Neither of us had family we could go to for money. I was screwed unless I could come up with a lot of money quickly. I’d heard of a woman in the complex that might be able help me out, if the rumors were true. Like me, she was the wife of an enlisted man, so she knew the tribulations.

I sat in Amanda’s kitchen and covered my problems, not sure what she’d recommend. She was sympathetic and asked how desperate I was. My answer was, “Dire. We could lose our apartment in a few weeks.”

She looked at me, turned away and then back again, as if summoning the courage to tell me. In a near whisper she asked, “Have you considered being a call girl?”

“No, I wasn’t thinking of that at all.” The look on my face was one of shock. I’d played a game once of hooking, but that was just some kinky adventure. Was she serious?

“Look, I’m sorry to have to bring it up. You’re young and attractive. A lot of enlisted wives have to do this on occasion to get by. I’d guess a third have at one time or another. I know a woman that can help you. She’s fair and will keep you out of trouble.”

Still stunned, I asked, “Have you ever?”

She looked down at the table. “Yes, I’ve worked off and on for a couple of years. Shit happens.”

It was true, there was a lot of shit happening for enlisted families. Nearly half of us were reduced to using food stamps in the commissaries. For people putting their lives on the line in defense of this country and their families, there isn’t much money for the effort.

I thought it over in silence for several minutes. It was scary. However, I was in a real bind. “Okay, can you get me in touch with her?”

A day later I sat in the living room of someone named, Karla, in my leather mini, my best fuck me pumps and a skin-tight top, discussing “contract employment." Karla was somewhere in her forties and nicely dressed. Her hair was expensively tinted and her nails professionally manicured. She smiled pleasantly when she asked, “Dear, would you mind taking your clothes off and showing me your body?”

I felt embarrassed, especially consider the large black male standing by the doorway. “Don’t worry about, James, he’s seen it all. He keeps all the ladies under my employ safe.”

Realizing that if I wanted to work for her, I couldn’t be shy. I disrobed and turned in front of them in nothing but my heels.

“I like that you don’t have any tattoos. Our clientele prefer more refined women.”

“Can I put my clothes back on now?”

“No, I’d like to see how comfortable you are in a situation like this. Please sit.”

I took a deep breath and did as asked.

“Have you ever had sex for money before, Dear?”

“Err, not really,” I replied, knowing that I had, sort of. At least, I consider it a "sort of."

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Half of the women in this country have had sex for some form of consideration at some point in their lives.”

I briefly explained my hotel misadventure and blushed.

“I like that you have some experience, but not too much. You’ll fit in with us nicely.” James nodded in agreement.

The deal was that I’d be called and go to clients. I was technically an escort - there for my company only, but everyone knew I would be paid an additional fee to be fucked or whatever else the client wanted.

“There is one more thing, dear. You’ll have to dress better.”

I looked at my mini skirt on the chair. It was the most expensive piece of clothing I owned. It did look cheap and worn. I was advanced $700 toward a new wardrobe. That would be my first two tricks, I calculated.

I was also instructed that clients of her establishment are never referred to as Johns or tricks. There was a host of other rules of etiquette. I signed an agreement to abide by all the rules. Amanda had pointed out to me, working for Karla was a lot better than making the drive to Nevada and working at a brothel or striking out on my own.

I spent the rest of the day buying my new work outfits. The money didn’t go far, but it was enough to start out.

~ ~ ~ 

A day later I tapped on the door to room 416 at a business-class downtown hotel. It was past dark, and I’d told Anne that I was working as a restaurant hostess while she watched the kids. She may have seen the holes in my story, but she knew enough about the lives we existed in not to ask too many questions. I was dressed like I belonged in a place like this. It’s funny; I dressed more like a whore before I began working as one.

The gentleman who answered the door seemed pleasant enough and was most likely in his mid-fifties. I introduced myself, “Good evening, sir; I'm Deborah.”

He said his name was Charley, and he eyed me up and down approvingly. “You’re very pretty Deborah. I’m sure you show me a wonderful evening.” I wore a skirt, two inches above my knees and a satin tie back halter. Underneath I had on dark seamed stocking supported by a garter belt, and a matching black bra that my nipples rose above.

He asked if I’d care for a drink and according to the rule book, I was allowed one with each client. He poured me a Stoli on the rocks with a twist. I sat in a chair and slowly sipped at it with my legs crossed, and my skirt moved a few more inches northward. He sipped his drink and enjoyed the view of my legs. It would have been weird on a regular date, by this was what I was being paid for.

We made causal conversation, and he seemed impressed with my ability to hold up my end. It was stressed to me how important it was to be able to verbally engage a client, but to always keep the focus on his interests.

At last, he got to the heart of our transaction. He explained that he wanted oral and then standard intercourse. I quoted the company standard charges for my services, and he agreed. I removed my blouse and skirt. Since I wasn’t wearing underwear per his prior request, he had the full view of my naked vagina that I smilingly presented. “Would you like me to remove my bra, sir?”

“Yes, Deborah. Please do, but leave your heels and garter on.”

I unzipped his trousers and he was soon naked. I was allowed to kiss him, but no tongues, per the rules. On my knees, I began to suck his cock and watched his face carefully to make sure he didn’t approach a climax too soon. The agency stressed that the clients get the full requested package, and some don’t wish to admit they are overly excited.

Soon it was time to be placed top of the bed, not under the sheets unless the client specifically asks. Some clients prefer not to sleep on sheets soiled by even higher class prostitutes. The rules, once again.

He inserted himself into me and indicted he was enjoying his activity. I closed my eyes and thought of other things. If you’ve ever wondered what a prostitute thinks about while being serviced by a client, I’m not sure I could tell you. All I can say is that I fantasized about having Dumbass come home and finding me with two lawyers in the living room. “Welcome home. Here are the divorce papers. I’m taking the children you’ve never involved yourself with and leaving. There’s also a restraining order against you. Oh, and by the way, your car was just repossessed.”

Charley grunted into my ear and I could tell he was ejaculating. I thrust my hip to provide a last bit of enjoyment. We finished and I pulled my clothes back on. I thanked him for the money; he thanked me for my services, including an extra compliment. “You’re exquisite, Deborah; I'm in town until the end of the week. I’d like to see you again.”

“I’d like that very much, sir.” I received a hundred-dollar tip.

I had one more client that evening. My clothes were now paid for, and I’d raised half the money to hang onto Dumbass’ car. What a shame it would be, if its fancy custom red metallic paint job were to get keyed by some hooker one night, I thought to myself.

I travelled to a seedy motel that had been set up for us sex workers to clean up and changed into the next outfit. I got briefly introduced to some of the other women. Most of us were younger and seemed normal, other than working by having sex for money.

My first week, I did well financially. My willingness to do nearly any sex act moved me to the top of the request list. There are more men who seem to want anal intercourse and are willing to pay well for more it than you might imagine. It seems most wives are unwilling or the men are afraid to ask. It’s something I learned to enjoy. Maybe I was a gay man in a previous life.

By the end of the second week, I was requested for a two girl session. It tended to be on the expensive side, so most men made do with one whore.

My new partner was a girl who called herself, Dorsey. She was scarcely out of her teens and had long flaming red hair. She explained that she was putting herself through college on the pro-girl method. “It was this, porn or stripping. This pays best.” She smiled as if it was simply any other stepping stone job toward a better life.

We had an hour before meeting our client. I looked her over wondering what she would taste like when I licked her cootch.

“You want to smoke a joint before we head over?” she asked.

The rules said no drugs on the job or off. Pot was considered a drug. I hated to be a ballbuster for the rule book, but I needed to keep this job until I got back on my feet. Then again, it would help to be a bit buzzed when I was lapping away at collage gal’s muff.

“Karla never checks. I’ve worked for this client before, it’s best to be a bit baked.”

We arrived at the hotel and neither of us was feeling much pain. Our client was young; Dorsey said twenty-five and a trust fund kid intent on burning through as much of it as he could on the ever popular “hooker and blow” plan. We were offered plenty of the second part, but opted not to partake.

I stripped Dorsey down to her underwear, and she did the same with me. The first part of the show involved us wrestling, with the loser determined by whose bra and panties were torn off first. We’d already predetermined the outcome. I‘d take the fall and be ass fucked as the consequence.

It wasn’t easy taking on another girl in heels. Dorsey was a good two inches taller and more athletic. In a real contest, she’d have kicked my ass. I scored the first victory, by ripping away her bra, but then she rolled me over and placed her pantie covered twat over my mouth. I nibbled away on her, but then she complained that I’d bitten her clit.

Jake, our client, informed us that I’d incurred a penalty for flagrant rules violation. I was placed across Dorsey’s knee; my panties pulled down, and she spanked me. Jake then checked my cunt to see if I’d become wet. I’ll admit; I was starting to become so excited by Dorsey, that I was starting to drip. “Looks like you have another dyke, hungry for your pussy, Red,” Jake said.

I admitted my desires for her, and Jake promised that if I won, I could have her lick my pussy for twenty minutes. Alas, that scenario was not to be, my bra was torn off me shortly thereafter and within minutes, I lost my panties and the match.

The humiliation of the defeat was compounded by Dorset jamming three figures into my pussy. She used my own juices to lubricate my asshole, after which Jake jammed his erection into me. I lay hugging the edge of the bed as he rammed away at my rectum, while Dorsey stripped naked and positioned her snatch under my mouth. Her pubic hair was nicely trimmed, but was still a thick carpet of red that matched her flowing auburn locks. She had a strong, unique flavor, and I wound up having the only organs I’d experienced working as a prostitute.

For the next hour, I assisted Jake in a mock rape of Dorsey and then was severely punished for my transgression against the “magnificent redhead” by being forced to tongue her asshole. Dorsey was apparently a favorite of his, and I was the bad girl in this bizarre pageant.

For our evening with Jake, we each earned a couple of thousand in cash, plus a $200 tip. I walked out sore, but able to pay off all my debts and have a small fund left over for a rainy day.

As we rode the elevator down to street level, Dorsey said, “Thanks, Jakes a real freak, but he pays well. I do him every few months. He likes a new girl to put up against me, but if you want I could request a rematch later on.”

I told her I’d think it over, but knew I had no plans to continue.

“If you want, I know of a party on a yacht next weekend. Last time I got five thousand for an overnight.”

“I’m getting out of the business,” I confessed. I kissed her on the lips and expressed my gratitude as I got into Dumbass’ muscle machine, but I promised myself; this was my last trick or entertainment session.

I’ll confess, I wasn’t bothered by the work. In truth, I didn’t find it all that unpleasant. In three nights of work a week for a few hours, I could earn several times what I’d been paid in an office for two full weeks. Once more, I could spend the day taking care of my kids and hiring a sitter for a few evenings was way cheaper than day care. I suppose I could go the Dorsey route and use the profession to go to college and make something of myself. But, I’d still be selling my ass. Even though I’d be getting good money for it, I could see being seduced by that life. I told myself, I had done what I had to do to survive and keep my children from being homeless. Maybe I was kidding myself, but I was at least an ex-whore.

I’d visited a lawyer earlier in the week and asked if there was any way to gain sole custody of my kids. I’d have been willing to do a few more months on my back, if I thought they wouldn’t be left in the neglectful care of Dumbass several weekends a month, but I was told the courts wouldn’t go with that, unless I could prove he was an unfit father.

The next weekend while Dorsey was shipboard making 5Gs, I bought a small used car and looked over the want ads online. One benefit of my previous contracting work was that the nicer outfits I was able to afford, helped me find a better-paying job with a health and dental plan.

Chapter 5 of 5

We met in front of a downtown club. It was a place I hadn’t heard of before – Club Serpentine Rouge or as Mackenzie called it, The Red Serpent. It was a mixed gay and straight dance spot, but it had a lesbian section called, Club Sappho, which was our destination, that had an intimate dance floor that played an eclectic mix of Eurobeat electo music. I’d dressed sexy in a short skirt, and heels and Mackenzie dressed in a casual eloquent halter and tiny shorts. We danced together and I quickly became comfortable with the other women seeing our increasingly cozy moves.

After few songs into our dancing, I’d pulled her close to me, and our bodies moved in a singular fluid motion. She writhed in front as I rubbed against her back and ass. I become excited again with the thought of having sex with this woman.

As we cooled down with a few drinks, she turned to me and asked, “What are you here for?”

“An evening of fun with a person I enjoy.”

“Can I be honest with you?”

“I’d like nothing better.” Instantly, I could tell, this was not going to end well.

“You know I’m gay. You aren’t and never will be. It’s something you playing at. I’m basically monogamous, despite our one night together, and I want someone who can commit to me. I can’t see this going anywhere.”

I should have felt hurt, but she was right. I’d been playing a series of games for years. Furthermore, I’d have been with a couple of other women recently. Mackenzie was now just another conquest. “You deserve better. I appreciate your introducing me to a new world.”

Mackenzie looked surprised that I’d taken it so well. Perhaps she’d experienced more drama in the past. “I’m glad you understand.”

Her words resonated with me. “I haven’t been honest in a while. It’s time I got started. Can I kiss you good-bye?"

She placed her lips on mine, and we enjoyed a final moment together. I couldn’t see a life with her, only a night or two. She left the bar while I elected to stay on.

I watched as other women danced together, some far more closely that I had with Mackenzie.

I found an attractive group of scantily dressed young ladies and asked one to dance. We enjoyed the music for a good twenty minutes, while her friends mixed us on the floor from time to time. When I joined them back at the bar, one asked, “You came in with Mackenzie, right? What’s your story?”

Mackenzie was apparently well known there. It was no surprise; she was pretty and desirable. “She was looking for love; I'm looking for sex. It wasn’t a match,” I said with deadpan honesty. I figured they’d move on, but why not be honest starting now?

The blondest and prettiest of the group replied, “So are we. Mackenzie’s so hung up on finding the right bitch. I say it happens when it happens. In the meantime, let’s all fuck.” The rest laughed. Blondie introduced herself as Jenny and rubbed her hand on my knee. I ran a finger along her cheek and let it follow down to her neckline, as the rest of the group looked on.

“We’re about to go to my place for a more affectionate evening. Wanna join us?”

Since this could be my last opportunity for a wildly uninhibited night for a while, I jumped at the change. Soon I was in a small uptown bungalow with five other women. We played at game they called, Strip Reefer, in which each girl took a bong hit and removed an article of clothing. It didn’t take long before we were all completely high and naked.

“You’re the guest, choose which one do you want first?” Jenny ask.

“I want you all. Do I have to pick just one?”

I wound up sandwiched on a sofa between Jenny and a skinny girl with long straight brown hair named, Sandy. She crouched on the floor placing her mouth over my vulva and worked away at my clit while Jenny rubbed and sucked my tits. Another girl named, Gwen soon joined us and began French kissing me. She took a deep hit from the bong and blew the smoke into my mouth. I took a few more hits and reveled in the loss of control I was feeling.

“Have you ever experienced a dildo fucking?” Sandy asked.

“No, but I want to and the bigger the better.”

Jenny laughed and said, “You have no idea what you’re in for.”

“Bring it on, bitch,” I said with challenging bravado.

One of the other women brought out a rubber cock the must have been a foot long, and nearly two inched wide. “Think you can handle this?”

“Yeah, and all of it.”

Both Jenny and Sandy spread my legs apart, and Gwen began to tease me with the tip of the phallus, until I demanded more. Two inched was inserted into my hungry VJ. It was tight and the largest thing I’d ever had up there. I wanted more. Gradually, six inches was worked into me and increased with each stroke. By the time I screamed out a massive frenzy of orgasm, it was buried into me up to the fake balls.

“Callie, you are a nasty fucking bitch,” Jenny said as she kissed and darted her tongue into my waiting mouth.

My attacker, Gwen was next to have her long legs spread apart on the sofa and have that same dildo inserted into her pussy. It was still covered in my own juices as it entered her box. She begged for mercy when it buried six inches into her. I brought her off by licking her as a gesture of mercy.

Jenny grabbed my hand and pulled me into a bedroom. “I wanted to us to be alone. I’ve wanted to fuck you when I first laid eyes on you dancing with that bitch, Mackenzie.”

We got on top of the bed, and I began kissing her. “I take it; you aren’t friends.”

“We were dated at one point, but fuck her.”

“I’d rather fuck you.” I ran several fingers into her pussy. She had found my slit and entered me. It was such a nice contrast being in bed with her. She was a natural blonde, with deep brown eyes and a completely tanned body. There wasn’t a single bikini mark on her; I guessed she must sunbath nude every day. I had black hair and blue eyes. My skin was pale and creamy, as I rarely had the chance to lay out in the sunshine.

As I rocked my fingers inside her, her juices began to run down my hand, and she bellowed in a powerful organism that was punctuated by a wave of verbal obscenities. I came a short time later with one of lesser intensity, but still extremely satisfying.

As I drove home from the lesbo orgy, I did something I hadn't done much of in recent years. I began to look at my life in the last few years with a sense of introspection. What led me from being a faithful wife to fucking a series of men and women, many of whose names I could no longer remember, along with other assorted misdeeds? It all tied back to my conversation with LtCol Adams.

A couple of years before, I sat nervously waiting outside his office on base the day after the promotion reception. I’d gathered Dumbass had managed to get himself in trouble, but had no idea how.

I was greeted cordially and sat in front of his desk. Adams was a handsome man. He looked as if he’d been sculpted from a block of stainless steel, and seemed the very idea of what a commanding officer would look like. His eyes were piercing. My husband had a similar appearance, but nowhere near the intensity Adams projected.

“Your husband was found drunk on duty last week. In fact, he was so drunk; he'd passed out at his desk.”

“I didn’t know about that,” I replied, shocked only that he was drunk at work.

“He’s a solid man in-country. But he isn’t adjusting well with the rest of military life. He got lucky this time. The MPs brought it directly to my attention, otherwise he’d be looking at court martial and dishonorable discharge.”

I could see his life hanging by a thread as well as my family’s future. “Isn’t there a program he can get into to help?”

“There are some military programs, but that would all but doom any future advancement he could have. Only you can help save him.”

My frustration welled up inside, “He doesn’t listen to me. I’ve suggested marriage counseling and he blows up.”

The LtCol, came from around from his desk. He handed me a pamphlet that detailed an intense therapy program, as he sat in a chair next to mine. It looked incredibly expensive.

“We’d never be able to afford something like this,” I said as I refolded the brochure. My heart was beating as if I was about to face a firing squad.

“I could help with the money. Your husband is valuable to my command. I can convince him to go into the program, but I need your support.”

My eyes were starting to well with tears. “You’d do that for us?”

It was then that I felt his hand on my knee. “You’re a very attractive woman, Callie. I’m willing to help your husband, for the right incentives.”

It was as if the wind had been knocked out of me. I'd been leered at by officers before; most of the younger wives had. But an affair with the wife of a subordinate by an officer was a crime that the military didn’t tolerate; at least that was the official policy; a policy, I later learned, that was routinely violated.

Adams and I negotiated for some time, and I came to understand that the only way Dumbass would survive was if I was to give in sexually to his commanding officer. I hated myself for relenting, but know that I had no other option.

I met LtCol Adams in a hotel room he’d reserved for our liaison. I sat on the bed shaking as a bottle of champagne chilled in a silver bucket nearby. I’d dressed in a short skirt and cleavage bearing top. I told myself it would only be this once and was only doing it for my family.

The Cornel, as he liked to be called, entered the room without knocking and stood with a confident smirk on his face as he looked me over. “There’s no need to be nervous, Callie. I’ll treat you like a woman of your beauty deserves,” he said as he poured us each a glass of bubbly.

I took a few sips, and it tasted good. It was better than good.

“Krug Clos du Mesnil, a true champagne,” he explained.

I had no idea if that was good or not. I’d only had whatever someone else served on New Year’s Eve. This was a lot better. I drank a glass to calm myself and another so that I go through with this.

I giggled half way into my third glass as the officer intimated praises into my ears. If I had to be forced into fucking another man, The Cornel, wasn’t that bad, I reasoned to myself. Many other women under his dominion whispered fantasies among each other of rollicking in bed with this man. Here I was, the wife of a nobody, being seduced in a high-class hotel with fancy wine. I allowed myself to fall into the moment.

The Cornel removed my top and skirt. I stood before him in my underwear and sipped the rest of my glass as he ran his hands over me. I shuddered with guilty anticipation as he kissed me while removing my bra at the same time.

I was allowed a few more sips before he reached the front of my panties. I was betrayed by my own vagina. My front of my panties was soaked, and the great warrior knew he had made another conquest.

My underwear was pulled off, and I was carried to the bed. His cock was flawlessly ridged. I willingly placed it into my mouth and worked its entirety down my throat. I was slightly drunk, but by then I’d become an eager participant in this violation of my marriage vows.

My head rushed with guilt and lust; I rolled over onto my back and reveled in the moment as he thrust his penis between my loins. You’re a fucking slut now; I remember thinking.

I came quickly and repeatedly over the course of the next hour. Even though I’d half hoped it wouldn’t be the case, The Cornel was a phenomenal and highly skilled lover. He paid attention to my needs sexually, which was something I hadn’t experienced in some time.

As we dressed, I was informed that my services would be required regularly, with the hint that my husband’s future was still a consequence of my actions. I wish I could claim that it was for those reasons only that I continued the affair for the next year, but the truth was; I had been seduced by the attention, prestige and sense of illicit adventure.

Like my husband, The Cornel was away frequently, and it became more routine that romantic. The Cornel had been there only for the sex; I soon realized, but I continued on with my obligation. I found myself drifting into other affairs, seeking out that same thrill of being desired, even as I knew all the lovers I had taken saw me as a cheap slut; another ass to be taken and counted as a trophy.

~ ~ ~ 

When I reached home, I knew what I needed to do. The next morning, I called Lt. Cornel Adams directly. He’d moved on to new conquests, so it was rumored and didn’t sound particularly happy to hear from me. I was sure rumors of my continued philandering had reached him, too. Still, he reluctantly agreed to meet me. Not at a fine hotel this time. I’d no longer rate such treatment at this stage. He would have viewed me soiled goods, but sex wasn’t what we were there for. We rendezvoused at a small greasy spoon restaurant.

“So, Callie, what do you want this time?”

Direct and to the point, exactly as I expected. “I want out of my marriage.”

“Get a lawyer. I don’t interfere in the lives of my men.”

“You’ve done nothing but that with my life. I want out, and I want my children. Total custody. You must know why.” I’d told him about my plight with Dumbass be a terrible father many times. He at first seemed interested, by later I realized he was just humoring me to get me into the sack.

“Again, that isn’t my concern. I’m sorry.” He rose and leave.

I had but one card left to play, and it was a good one. “My daughter, shouldn’t have to be placed in his care. She isn’t his.”

This face became flushed, and I could see his irritation beginning to boil. Most subordinates under his command would have cowered at his anger. I wasn’t under him anymore and hadn’t been in some time. “Whatever man fathered your girl, is between you and your husband. Hire a fucking lawyer.”

Upon the first look in his eyes as we sat down in the booth told me who the father was. My daughter looked like Dumbass. Dumbass also looked like LtCol Adams. But, those piercing eyes were identical to hers.

“I will hire a fucking lawyer. You’re her father, and a DNA test will prove it. Your fucking career will be over at best, and you’ll be looking at scandal and prison.”

He went crimsoned and lashed out at me, “You cheap fucking slut.”

I raised my voice and let him see my own fury. “Yes, I am a slut. Worse than that. And you made me that way. Now sit down. I don’t want to ruin you. I just want to keep my children, of which one is yours.”

A few people stared at us, but quickly went back to their own business. The Cornel looked beaten. He knew the danger he was facing. Stories of affairs destroying military careers had been prominent in the news recently. He didn’t want to become another example of a great military mind brought down by his need to score some pussy.

“You are the only one my husband listens to. Tell him to sign off on the divorce and grant me full custody. I’m sure you can influence his into giving up the family he doesn’t want as easily as you brought me into your bed.”

His eyes transmitted their contempt for me, but I no longer cared. I had him by the balls, and he knew it.

A month later, I was on my way to a new life with my kids in tow. Dumbass was upset at first, but his coming promotion to Staff Sergeant eased the pain of our breakup. Lt. Cornel Adams is well on his way to making general.

I wrote the first draft of this admission with the intent of giving it solely to Dumbass as a way of telling him what I have done as reprisal against him for his transgression against me. I came to realize; he didn’t deserve to be hurt by his own failings, and that I bear as much of the blame. We were young and in love when we first married, with the best intentions of making a life together. Circumstances changed us for better and worse, as it changes everyone.

~ The End ~ 

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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